At seven o’clock in the morning General Kousminski was at my door, and I started bravely for Erzeroum, full of happy hopes and expectations. A crowd of Turks gathered round our carriage, wishing us Godspeed.

For the first mile or two all went well, but soon there was an accident; the road was heavy and one of our horses slipped and fell down. It was not a good beginning, but we still had the worst before us, and a long way to go. We only made a hundred miles that day, the roads being shockingly bad, all covered with big stones over which we rumbled down, our carriage bouncing like a roasted chestnut. I tried to console myself with the thought that the way which led to “Paradise” was also covered with stones and strewed with pebbles. We stopped for the night in a small Turkish hamlet and continued our journey at dawn; the worst bit of it now began. The road which led to the next station was a terribly bad one; we had to abandon our comfortable coach and take a sledge. The road grew steeper with every mile; it was a succession of hills, one after the other. Up and down we went all the time, but I felt a wonderful access of courage at the thought that each mile drew me nearer to Sergy. I could already feel myself flying into his arms. In descending a terribly steep hill our sledge was upset and bang—there we were in a deep ditch! Happily we had come to no harm, and after having assured ourselves that we had no broken limbs, we remounted into our sledge and travelled on till sunset Dreading to be overtaken by darkness in the mountains, we made a halt in a village under the hospitable roof of Mr. Iliashenko, a Russian officer who took up his quarters there with some dozen soldiers. I was pretty well fagged out and hurried off to my room. It was so nice to sleep again like respectable people, between sheets, on our second night’s resting-place.

A most dreadful surprise awaited me in the morning. I was roused by Helena coming to tell me that General Kousminski was summoned back to Kars at once. The prospects of so long a journey without my protector was the most distressing thing that could befall me. The worst of all was that we were in danger of dying of starvation, for we were not supplied with provisions. The next stage was known to be a very risky one, and I had to make all the way on horseback. Helena had set out before in a peasant’s cart with an old military doctor who was also proceeding to Erzeroum, and to whose care General Kousminski had entrusted me. It was not nice at all to be left behind! Our horses were led up, but I couldn’t manage to climb into the saddle which one of the soldiers had lent me; the clumsily tied arch would not hold and I slipped down continually. I was growing quite desperate, when it occurred to Mr. Iliashenko to propose for me his transport-van, an enormous vehicle with a team of six horses. I climbed into it tremblingly, and off we went.

After crossing a bridge thrown over the “Arax,” we began to mount the slopes of the opposite bank, creeping along the high shelf roughly bedecked with fallen stones. Here we met a long caravan of camels; our horses took fright at them and drew back till we were almost on the very brink of a precipice, perhaps three hundred feet deep. Though Mr. Iliashenko made an attempt to hold me in I jumped out of the van and scrambled up the steep hill dabbling in the greasy mud flushed and breathless. Suddenly a happy idea struck Mr. Iliashenko, he proposed to me to mount his horse, saddled with a wide Cossack saddle. I settled myself down comfortably in it and went valiantly onwards. My anxious Helena awaited me at the next station. I was already beginning to feel General Kousminski’s absence, and now learned what it was to be desperately hungry. I was as a ravenous wolf, seeking what I might devour, but we had only a meagre luncheon of bread and cheese. Here I had to bid good-bye to Mr. Iliashenko, who proposed for me to keep his horse as far as Erzeroum, thinking he might be useful to me in dangerous places, too bad for carriages; he gave me, besides, a Cossack.

After many difficulties, we succeeded in reaching the next station. We were obliged to advance very slowly; it took nearly seven hours to get there, although the distance was only sixteen miles, for there was no road as the Europeans generally understand it. Our horses plunged in the snow up to their necks. We met on the road groups of soldiers returning to Kars, who seemed greatly astonished to meet a woman in these dull parts. It was almost dark when we reached a tiny village, where we stopped for the night in a dirty dairy-hut, and slept in the company of my brave little horse who shared all my mishaps. I had to lie down on a mat stretched upon the floor, and being tired out, I slept the sleep of the just, when at dawn an enormous tongue, trying to find my face, woke me. I soon realised that the tongue was my horse’s, who had freed himself from his bridle and came to bid me good-morning. When I got up I saw the snow falling heavily. We weren’t able to start before the following day until the snow-storm had passed away. A young officer on his way to Kars took shelter under the same roof with us, which helped me to while away the weary hours of waiting-time.

We started at cock-crow, and soon discovered that we were in no path at all. There was no road, not even a track; our driver was compelled to clear a way for himself à la grace de Dieu, as best he could over heaps of snow. We came near falling into a hut through a big hole in the roof, which, instead of a chimney, gave passage to smoke. In comparison with the enormous heaps of snow on our untrodden road this hut presented but a mere mound. We were now in the most dangerous parts and followed a track winding round precipitous ravines. On the narrowest part of the cliff, just over a deep precipice scarcely three inches between the wheels and the brink, we met a field-battery and there was hardly room for our sledge to pass.

We intended to reach the village of Yus-Veran that day, which we succeeded in doing, though not without considerable difficulties, pinched with cold and very miserable. For the night we stopped at a wayside farm-house, a dingy, uninviting place. I was immediately surrounded by a group of native women, whose noses were adorned with metal rings. After they had lavished on me their selamaleks, Helena made me up an impromptu bed upon the bare boards covered with straw. To my disgust the room was invaded by sheep, pigs and goats, nevertheless I slept soundly.

After freeing my hair and clothing of the straw and chaff, we set off at sunrise. When we passed the village of Kepri-Kay, a pestilence-stricken Russian camp, I had to put my handkerchief up to my nose for the horrible smell which hung in the air.

From Kepri-Kay I made all the way on horseback, the roads being too rough for carriages. I felt tired, so very tired, and oh, so cold! The wind began to blow harder every minute, and made me nearly lose my equilibrium. On the top of a steep mountain we encountered General Avinoff, who was returning to Kars. Seeing me so lightly clad he made me put on his big fur boots, which had to be held up by bits of rope tied on by my Cossack attendants.

In the middle of the passage of Deve-Boynou we perceived, all of a sudden, a cloud of dust and saw a group of ferocious-looking horsemen, armed from head to foot, who came galloping up, shouting and gesticulating vehemently. I was horribly frightened, taking these individuals for highwaymen. The seeming brigands proved to be peaceful Turks sent by my husband with shawls and furs to bid me welcome. And I had expected my arrival would be such a surprise to Sergy! It was the young officer with whom I had passed the night under the same roof during the snow-storm who had betrayed my secret and announced my arrival to Sergy by wire.

It was nearly night when we perceived the tops of numerous minarets. My long journey had come to an end; Erzeroum was reached at last.

As soon as we stopped before the house inhabited by my husband, I jumped out and bounded upstairs three steps at a time, and rushed into Sergy’s study, my heart beating wildly. The next instant I was in my husband’s strong arms, listening with rapture to his voice. “My wife, my love,” he repeated constantly and smothered my face with kisses. It was no dream, I was resting on Sergy’s breast and felt plainly that one can become mad with joy. What ages we had been apart, and now my darling husband was wholly given back to me. I nestled against him and the world seemed to me a pleasant place again and I forgot that I had ever been wet and cold and lonely. I have him now for good and all and always. The day of suffering was over!